Fixed On Heaven
by sadisticscribbles
Summary: R never dreamed that the one to save him would break him too. Mostly E/R. Rated for extreme language, rape, alcoholism, and some generally depressing stuff. And raciness.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: So, yes, E/R-I know, I was shocked too! Well, ****_mostly _****E/R...**

* * *

Beer. Beer was nice. Beer was good. R grabbed the can, knocking it back gratefully. Anything to dull the pain.

Someone was screaming though the speakers, some song pounded into insensibility by gravelly vocals and alcohol.

Another swig of Guinness.

_Bitch._ The thought blazed through his beer-soaked mind. _Couldn't even make it for a week._ The liquor lulled him back into the previous hours.

_"It's not that I don't like you."_ She'd said. "_I do. It's just that I can't figure you out. One minute you're composing something for me on that piano of yours, and then all you want to do is go and drown yourself somewhere. What are you, bipolar or something?"_

_Yeah,_ he thought angrily. _Maybe I am. 'Cause after one too many breakups, maybe I've broken a gear or two. _

And then there had been Mark, sweet, sheltered Mark, who left one day and never came back…

_Can't blame him though… after finding me in the bathroom… Pity. _He'd composed so much for him…

And the girl he'd hit on for no other reason then he was going back to an empty flat on a winter night…

_"Shit." _She'd muttered, words slurred with alcohol. _"Another Boho freak."_

He stood, swaying dangerously as he pushed his way through the drunken dancers.

_"Yeah. Go on. Slit your wrists for all I care."_

_Okay, Diane. I'll take you up on that. _

R pushed open the bathroom door just as somebody vomited inside a stall. Half-blind with beer, the drunk stumbled against someone at one of the filthy sinks.

"Sorry…" He mumbled.

"No problem."

Slamming against the wall, R plunged his hand into his pocket, only to find it empty. Damn. He must have left it at home. Turned around-

"Hey…"

The man looked back up.

"D'you have a knife on you?"

He dug into the pocket of his overcoat and tossed one of those army knives onto the floor.

"Thanks."

The man muttered something unintelligible and went out, door swinging shut behind him.

R picked up the knife, staring at the blade dumbly.

_Okay. If I can't hold onto love… why not?_

Leaning against one of the sinks, R switched the blade open, pressing it against his wrist next to all the other scars…

_Maybe this is what we all need to do sometimes. Let the bad bleed out into the bathroom sink. _

R watched blood slide down the drain, as if not quite believing it was his own.

There was a squeak and a muffled clang and one of stalls opened. R, now slumped against the porcelain, only registered the low footfalls on the linoleum.

Biting back a whimper of pain, the drunk looked up, blearily taking in the leather jacket, the low-heeled boots, the blond curls.

He only glanced at R for a moment before choosing another sink.

It was as if the new arrival had cleared R's mind, more than the bloodletting ever could.

He glanced back at the slit in his wrist with growing horror. Had it only been cuts this time? Or had he been trying to kill himself? R couldn't remember.

"Fuck…" He muttered, with growing horror. "Oh fuck!"

The blond looked up at his outburst, then abruptly turned for the door.

_Where the fuck are you going? Aren't you going to help me? Oh God, just notice me. STOP ME!_

It was as if the silent scream had somehow gotten through to the other man. He turned.

"Do you…" He wet his lips, moving some the transparent… yes, that was lip gloss, wasn't it? "Do you need some help?"

"I-I-" R moaned into the filthy porcelain of the sink. "I-fuck this…"

The newcomer squatted next to him.

"What were you trying to do?"

"I wanted to take a break…"

His lips twitched.

"From life? Looks more like an early retirement."

R only groaned, avoiding the other man's bright blue gaze.

"Come on." The man said. "We'll go next door. There's a first aid kit there."

"Next door?" R murmured.

"Yeah. Come on. I help you walk."

One long hand wrapped around his wrist, ignoring the blood seeping through his fingers.

"Head hurts…"

The blond ignored this, pulling him up bodily. He was surprisingly strong for one with such a girlish build.

After fighting their way back through the club, the two men stopped in front of the next building over.

"Where are we?"

"A handily derelict trash heap that nobody ever uses."

"Except… you…" His wrist was killing him. Almost literally.

"Me and some friends, yes."

The blond forced open the door, allowing R to enter first.

"I've got some stuff in here somewhere..."

He opened a cupboard, scanning it through the dusty gloom.

"Wouldn't some light help?" R asked from the doorway. There was a snort in the darkness.

"Just might. There's a switch by the door."

A weak, fluttering glow filled the room.

"Here we go."

The blond rifled through the bag he'd retrieved from the cupboard, drawing out a tube of aged Neosporin and some gauze. R winced at the sting as the other man rubbed the cream into the wound. He worked dispassionately, ignoring the sounds of discomfort from the other man.

_Marble._ R thought absently. _Should try… try to write something about that…_ He could almost hear the melody line… _yeah… D minor… D minor would work…_

R snuck another glance at his unexpected rescuer.

He was dressed ridiculously well for this part of town. The boots alone… Jesus Christ… what was he doing here?

Another glance.

Pretty. Very pretty. And hell, he always fell for blue eyes…

Just as R opened his mouth to speak, the door opened revealing yet another man, overcoat wrapped around him tightly.

"Hey! I got a text from Jehan, he says he'll be a bit late tonight."

The blond looked up from R's arm.

"Marius!" He strode over to the door and R looked away as the two men embraced.

_Wonderful. _He thought. _One of the few men to ever care about me and he's taken._

* * *

Close to an hour later, R still wasn't sure what had just happened, but he knew it somehow involved beer, blood, and hot insurrectionists.

They mostly talked, while R sat in the corner and tried to figure out what was going on and the blond-Alex- had spent most of his time trying to explain everything to him. Nothing had really gotten through-alcohol and the pain from his wrist had seen to that-and all R had been able to concentrate on was Alex's cologne.

* * *

Rain.

R glanced up at the sky, which was gunmetal grey, before ducking into his flat. Raindrops lashed the pavement.

Now upstairs in his workroom, R stared at the rickety keyboard that was balanced against the wall, held on its stand with masking tape.

This was the best time for him to compose. When he was full of lust, slightly drunk, in pain...

D-minor. No. That was a funeral dirge. You didn't play that for a man like Alex...

F-sharp... no, A.

He did this a lot now. Composing for anything and anyone. It wasn't as if he had anything else to do.

Just another artist sitting in Miami, waiting for inspiration to strike.

As if.

Eventually the individual notes give way to the same few chords over and over again. No good. R hit the on/off switch. Once he started looping a melody... it was time to quit.

Turn off the lights.

Bed.

Try to sleep.

Not.

* * *

**Review?**


	2. Chapter 2

He went back to the club the next night. Of course he did. He'd go to Hell if it meant he'd get to see Alex again.

He didn't let himself drink this time, simply waiting outside the club for him, for an excuse to get in the building next door, just to watch him move...

Alex showed up fifteen minutes later, tucking his phone into his pocket, walking straight past R without even glancing at him.

"Hey!"

He turned, a faint look of recognition creeping over his face.

"You're early."

R frowned.

"Early?"

"You are coming to tonight's meeting, right?"

"I... you never said I could come."

"I never said you couldn't." Alex flashed a smile. No lip gloss tonight, R noticed, but some killer eyeliner.

"You're... you're not American, are you?" He couldn't tell where the thought had come from. Alex just... didn't fit in with the Miami scene. And his voice had that slightly foreign timbre...

The blond didn't question it.

"Cajun. My mother's side. I was born in America though. New Orleans."

R smiled, in spite of himself.

"You're French."

"Alex is short for Alexandre. But..." He glanced at R. "I don't really identify myself as an American. My mother was Cajun, I'm three eighths francophonic, one eighth British, and very, very gay. I'm about as un-American as it gets."

R raised his eyebrows.

"Oh, come on. At least half of the population is-"

"Doesn't change the fact that you're living in one of the most homophobic states in the US."

"Just because gay marriage isn't legal in Florida doesn't mean it stops anybody. My boyfriend lived with me for months before-"

Alex interrupted him.

"That's why I came here. Miami is a veritable breeding ground of intolerance, and nobody ever realizes it. It's fascinating." He looked out over the street, watching the cars go by. "Who are they to tell us who we can marry?" He sighed, dropped his gaze. "They don't have the right."

R spoke hesitantly.

"Is... that what this is all about? Those meetings, they're about gay rights?"

"Same-sex marriage, to be specific." Alex looked up suddenly. "Are you interested?"

"Very."

Fire seemed to flood R's belly as the blond grinned, even if they were talking at cross-purposes. The effect was somewhat ruined when Alex pulled his phone out.

"It's close to eleven. We'd better go in."

* * *

"I'm not really sure how coherent you were last night," Alex said. "So, I'll make the introductions again."

They were all seated around the table, R reluctantly joining them. He'd never liked eyes on him before. Alex was the only one R wanted to look at him. But the blond was now slowly circling around the table, nodding to each man.

"Jehan, poet and devoted Florence and the Machine army. That's Combeferre, highly intelligent and very silent, Marius, hot lawyer-" R couldn't help noticing Alex's hand trail over the back of the lawyer's chair. "Courfeyrac- small time stand-up comedian and street-performer; Joly, medical student and professional patient, Feuilly, our resident history buff, and-" He paused for breath. "Bossuet is probably the unluckiest man alive." He turned back to R.

"And you are...?"

"R."

"What?"

"R. That's what people call me." Feeling something more was expected, he continued. "I... play piano."

Jehan looked up suddenly.

"Do you do covers or..."

"I compose."

"Right, if we can continue the musical conversation at a later time..."

Once again, their incensed conversation washed over R's head. It didn't matter to him, he didn't belong or really believe in their cause. He was there because of Alex, because he'd lost all hope of living and a complete stranger had turned around and helped him... as if he mattered... but Marius... Alex had mended and broken him all in the same night.

R sighed, trying to concentrate on the discussion. Concentrate on Alex's ass, accentuated by his charcoal skinny jeans.

_Damn it, I need to stop this. I'm already getting over a breakup, I don't exactly need another heartbreak. But maybe... maybe I should tell him how I feel... after all, it's not like I have anymore to lose..._

* * *

12:40 AM and several of the men still remained. Once the initial meeting was over, R had been pinned into a lengthy conversation on music with Jehan. He had a feeling the would-be poet was flirting with him, but R wasn't really sure how to respond. Once Jehan had left, humming something exotic and depressing, R wandered back inside- and rammed into Alex, who was just heading out the door. The black and white bag in his hands slipped out, spilling its contents spectacularly across the floor.

"Oh, sorry!"

They both knelt on the ground, retrieving his belongings, which seemed to consist of several notebooks, a lifetime supply of pens, and a small tub of vaseline. Alex blushed several shades of red, R raising his eyebrows but saying nothing, merely replacing the vaseline in the bag.

"Thanks."

"No problem."

Alex stood, running a hand through his hair, turning for the door. R took a deep breath.

_Talk, talk you idiot, he's leaving!_

"Hey, Alex?"

The blond turned around from the open door.

"Hm?"

"I-I just.." R struggled to find what he was trying to say. "You.."

"Alex?" The blond turned yet again, a smile breaking over his face. Marius.

"Just a moment." Back to R.

"Yes?"

"I-never mind. You go on, I'll close up."

Alex frowned. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah, yeah... you go on." _That vaseline is probably burning a hole through your bag_, he added silently.

Alex nodded slowly and left the building. R feigned business, and then, after a moment, snuck a glance out the still-open door onto the street.

They were under the street light, arms wrapped around each other's necks, kissing passionately. More flames lit in R's stomach as he watched them. Eventually he was forced to drop his gaze, feeling his chronic loneliness eat away at him.

* * *

Up the flat stairs, slam and lock the door, anything for noise, oh God, he could just scream...

He turned into the room, facing the decrepit piano in the corner. It menaced him, like a tiger.

_Fuck my life. Fuck everything._

Why had he saved him? A complete stranger...

_But he helped me. He had cared. Why had he bothered?_

R strode to the piano, turning it on, cracking the volume up as high as it would go. The landlady would probably up his rent, but hell, what did he have to lose? Only money, and that slipped from his fingers all too easily. One day, he'd have to sell the piano.

A chord. B-minor. Possibly the worst key known to man. And yet composers always seemed to do their best in B... F-flat. D-major. A ringing melody line that sounded like flames. Several times, R could have sworn it devolved into Bohemian Rhapsody and it was all he could do to pull it back out.

Discordant notes. Oh well. It didn't matter, he'd never get the sound back again.

_Bare sweaty skin and blue eyes that blaze... _

Devolving-or perhaps evolving-into something like Evanescence.

That had been Mark's favorite band.

The thundering chords dropped away under his fingers. Eventually, R was left staring at the black and white keys. Slowly, he reached for the shelf by the piano, taking down a battered binder, filled with sheet music. After a couple moments of rifling, he found what he was looking for.

_"Mark."_

F-major. One of his more labor-intensive pieces. He could remember sweating over it for weeks...

Mark...

He and Diane hadn't been much of a romance R realized as his hands flew over the keys. They'd both been heartbroken, sexually frustrated gutter rats who needed something to screw.

Mark... hadn't been able to take it. R's moodswings had been too much. And once he'd found out that R was cutting himself...

_Where is he now? Is he okay?_

Now the bridge. He'd never been entirely happy with this, he'd sort of run out of ideas at this point, and just done a chord progression. But Mark thought it was beautiful...

Uncertain ending, like all his pieces. Right up, up, up the scale, ending on an F.

And Mark had looked up from the couch and said it sounded like butterflies...

That was enough for tonight.

Bed.

No.

Bed would make him think of Alex, with Marius, tapered legs stretched over rumpled, stained sheets... Hell, he could smell the vaseline.

_Oh, take a shower,_ he told himself. He would just have to be content with a life spent alone with long nights of murmuring the last shag's name into his pillow.

But damn it. He couldn't help that Alex was beautiful.


	3. Chapter 3

R opened his eyes, face stuck slightly against the keyboard. It was dawn, or maybe a little after and R lifted his head, squinting at the new leaf of sheet music tacked to the wall.

_"Alex"_

It looked like he'd worked out most of the melody. Low, gently spiraling in and out of a higher key.

He might as well get up, even if he was running on adrenaline now. Adrenaline and beer.

But what would he do? At least until eleven o'clock rolled around when he could get to the club and see Alex again.

Compose.

Jehan had mentioned putting music to some of his poetry. Perhaps coming over at some point. Looking at lyrics.

Oh yeah. Definitely hitting on him.

And now... compose. Maybe he could finish this by tonight.

Mellowed slightly from last night-early this morning, really- R turned the piano back on.

Time to create.

* * *

Another day. Another meeting. Something must have been going on at the club, they could hear the effected beats pumping through the walls even stronger than usual.

_...Gold digger way over town_

_That digs on me..._

"It's not just that we can't marry, it's that they think they can control us." Alex had chosen a touch of deep red eyeliner tonight, it made his eyes sparkle a brighter blue than normal. "What do we do? Do we give up on Florida as a lost cause? Perform a mass migration to a few states in the north? Running from a problem doesn't solve it. _I_ want to get married," He leaned back in his chair. "I know Marius does. I'm sure plenty of you do. Are we going to let them take that right away from us just because of our orientation?"

He glanced at R, who felt his cheeks burn. Just to feel his eyes on him... better than sex.

And then he'd moved on, surveying the faces of all the boys at the table, lingering slightly on Marius. The lawyer took his hand.

"No. We fight for what's ours. Never give in."

Courfeyrac looked up suddenly.

"Aren't you worried about the police? You hear all those stories about policemen losing their heads and just shooting into the crowd. What if-"

"This is Miami." Alex replied. "I have no doubt they will, when they see all of us rioting."

"Because that's so good for morale..." Combeferre muttered.

"Look! I only want to prepare you for when it happens! Yes, of course there's a risk involved, at least half of us will be arrested, and there probably will be casualties! Are you willing to die for this?"

There was a shocked silence broken only by a louder flush of sound from the club.

_It's ridiculous, how you put your lips on this _

_Don't kiss right there girlfriend I'm ticklish._

Alex stood.

"That's it for tonight. Get out. Go home."

There was a generally sour mood as they left the club. Just as R seized his jacket he was stopped by Jehan.

"Hey, remember I was talking about the song thing yesterday?"

"Yeah." R glanced at the corner of the room, where Marius was helping the blond into his leather jacket. He just caught parts of their conversation.

_"...not tonight. Give me an hour or two. I'll... text you and you can come over."_

"... How about I just text you the lyrics, and you can do what you want as far as music goes?" Jehan was saying.

"Yeah, sounds fine." R replied. _Catch him, catch him before he leaves_...

They exchanged numbers and then R was heading out the door into the alley beyond.

Perfect. He could see Alex up ahead, heeled footfalls echoing on the buildings.

"Alex!"

He turned, nodded when he saw R.

"What is it?"

"I-" Once more his voice stuck in his throat. _Just tell him, just say it..._ "I-" _Just say it, idiot!_ "I love you!"

Alex stared at him, eyes wide.

"I love you." R repeated. And then somehow, Alex was in his arms, backed against the side of the building, lips crashing together. Alex made a strangled, high-pitched noise in his throat. It took R a moment to realize Alex was beating frantically on his chest.

"_Oh God, please, get off of me!"_

R broke away.

"_What the fuck are you doing?!_"the blond screamed, blue eyes wide.

"I-" R floundered for a response.

"Marius and I... you... don't touch me! For God's sake, think next time!"

"And when's the next time going to be? I have nothing left to lose!" He stepped closer to him. "Give me a chance! I love you!"

"Go and work your libido out on somebody else!" Alex snarled and started down the street.

"Just... just let me touch you!"

Alex turned back and stared at him for a moment.

"Listen to yourself! That's... that's harassment!"

And the blond was all but running down the alley, footsteps clattering on the asphalt.

R watched him go.

He was right. That kiss... if Alex hadn't pushed him away, how far would he have gone? Where would he have drawn the line? Suddenly, the burning pleasure seemed... wrong. As if he hadn't pulled back. The kiss... no better than a rape, really. He'd forced it on him...

* * *

Footfalls on the stairs and Alex looked up from the magazine he was trying to read, went to the door. A knock and a moment later the door opened and the blond had tumbled into Marius' arms, lips meeting. Eventually, Marius pulled away, taking in the slightly hunted expression, the streaks of red liner that ran down his cheeks.

"You okay? What's-"

"I'm fine... just..." Alex trailed off. Marius took his hand.

"Has something happened? Alex, you need to tell me-"

Marius' sentence was cut off as the blond pulled him inside the flat, door slamming behind them.

A moment later they'd landed in his bedroom, hitting the bed with a decidedly unromantic _glink!_ of bedsprings.

"That was fast." Marius murmured into the other man's lips.

"Just need to... take my mind off things... hey, was it raining?" Alex murmured, running his trembling hands through the other man's damp hair.

"Yeah, it's _been_ raining."

"Huh. Hadn't noticed."

Alex struggled out of his jeans as they talked. They always talked. It was easier that way.

More kissing, hands sliding over bare skin, and Alex wrapped his arms around his lover's neck.

"Hang on."

Marius pulled himself off the mattress.

"What is it?"

"Lube."

Alex snapped his fingers, sighing.

"Right. Top drawer."

A moment later he was back, pulling Alex against him, trying to soothe his muscles as they tensed.

"Gently..." The blond murmured and Marius nodded.

"I always try. And you will tell me if I'm hurting you, right?"

Alex buried his face in the other man's neck, his murmured reply almost lost.

"Of course."


	4. Chapter 4

TEXT HISTORY

FROM- J. PROUVAIRE (19 hrs ago)

Hey, got the lyrics, just tell me when you want them.

FROM- J. PROUVAIRE (1 hr ago)

Where were you tonight? Are you ok?

FROM- J. PROUVAIRE (15 minutes ago)

Cut the shit, R. What are you doing?

FROM- J. PROUVAIRE (5 minutes ago)

R?

* * *

"Owww..."

He was almost there. Blood trickled from his wrists into the sink.

"Ow..."

He'd been crying and bleeding for over an hour now. Or something. He'd lost track of time.

"Alex... I'm... I'm sorry..."

They'd never find the piano music. Pity. But then, it was never meant for public eyes. And no one knew where he was. They'd never find him in time. Thank God.

_If I can't hold on to love, then why should I hold onto life...?_

_Would he have saved me, if he'd known that I'd repay him by begging him for love, for sex..._

_I can't live with that... with what I did..._

Someone was calling him. Calling his name. Satan?

The doorknob rattled just as R's eyes slid shut...

"R? What- oh my God!"

Thin arms wrapped R's chest, ignoring the blood that smeared on their shirt, pulling him away from the sink.

"Alex...?"

"No, it's Jehan. It's... it's okay, you'll be okay..."

"No, it's not!" R sobbed into the man's shoulder. "I've fucked it all up again!"

Jehan forced another door open, this one to R's bedroom. Depositing R on his bed, Jehan hurried back to the bathroom, seizing some washcloths, soaking them in water. No band-aids or bandages. These would have to do. Back to the bedrooom.

He worked feverishly, blotting the blood out of the cuts with the cloths, R hissing in pain.

"Hush..."

Eventually, R fell asleep, Jehan still shaking from his discovery. Why had he wanted to kill himself? The would-be poet glanced back at R. He really was good-looking... but what had happened? Surely there was always a reason to live...

He'd asked for Alex. What was going on there? Were he and Alex a thing? But no, Alex had Marius, didn't he?

Jehan tentatively ran his fingers over one of R's hands. Surprisingly delicate. Well, of course. He played piano, didn't he? The long fingers, almost printless finger pads...

R opened his eyes, startling the other man.

"J... Jehan?"

"Yeah. Right here." He said, guiltily pulling his hand back.

"You... don't know where I live. How...?"

"I asked around." A pause. "Where were you last night?"

R sighed.

"I didn't want to go back. I don't. I can't-can't bring myself to meet his eyes."

"Whose?"

"Alex's."

Jehan sat next to him.

"What happened?"

"I-" A moment's hesitation and then the words were out of him, stumbling to get away. "I loved him, I wanted him and... the other night, I... I came clean, told him, I... God help me, I kissed him..." R covered his eyes with his hands. "Just a kiss but... I feel like I raped him and left him in the dust!"

The other man bit his lip.

"You shouldn't feel bad about it. Alex has only ever had two great loves of his life. Gay rights and Marius."

There was silence.

"I could kill for a drink right now." R said eventually.

"You just nearly bled to death!" Jehan exclaimed.

"If I get drunk enough, it'll numb the pain. Beer heals all wounds."

"You really shouldn't..." Jehan began.

"Don't argue."

R tried to lift himself off the bed, groaning as his wrists rebelled. Reluctantly, Jehan helped pull him up.

"Some of the others were talking about meeting at a coffee shop sometime today. We'll see if we can join."

R fixed him with a look of sheer disbelief.

"Coffee. Are you kidding me?"

"Coffee."

* * *

Several heads turned as the bell on the door rang. Courfeyrac jerked his head to where he, Combeferre, Marius, and Joly were crowded around a table. Jehan and R joined them.

"...and so then I told Musichetta that - what happened to your wrists?" Joly halted his narrative to stare with open curiosity at the makeshift bandages wrapped above R's hands.

"This?" R forced a laugh. "Freak accident involving a kitchen knife. Not pretty."

Joly grimaced.

"Sounds like it."

The coffees were ordered and then the previous conversation washed back over them. R sipped his drink and ignored them for the most part, until something caught his attention.

"... I mean, I'd just feel better about the whole riot thing if I knew who he was," Courfeyrac was saying. "As far as I'm concerned, some guy named Alex just walked out of the blue and asked me if I wanted to get arrested."

Joly nodded.

"Yeah... I mean, nice enough-maybe a bit over-zealous-but yeah. We know nothing about him."

R set his mug down on the table.

"I'm new to the whole thing, and I mean, if you all don't know him... who is he, really?"

Combeferre glanced at Marius, who was staring resolutely into his coffee. He sighed.

"Look. Alex and I knew each other. We were at the same middle school-"

"Don't even." Marius glared reproachfully at the other man. "That's not for you to tell."

"They have a right to know!" Combeferre argued. "You know Alex better than any of us, he's not going to say anything that isn't about the riot."

A sigh, and Marius stood, mug in hand.

"Okay. It's up to you. Whatever you want. But I'm not going to sit here and listen."

The lawyer deposited his coffee cup on the counter, grabbed his coat, and left, door ringing incessantly.

The others watched him go, shocked, then turned back to Combeferre, leaning forward.

"What...?" Courfeyrac seemed unable to go on.

"Okay." Combeferre sipped at his coffee. "But first things first. Don't tell Alex I told you this. He'd... he'd kill me. Another thing...well... okay. He got messed up. Really messed up."

* * *

_English project. God, those were miserable. But, that was okay, his parents were out for the night, and he was working with Marius-one of the few truly bearable people in his class, so yeah. It could have been worse. _

_"I'll do the poster if you'll do the essay."_

_"What'd the rubric say?"_

_Combeferre sighed in frustration, staring at the computer screen with deep loathing. _

_"I don't understand what they're asking here. Elements of modern culture illustrated in 1984. How the hell is modern culture supposed to be depicted by some guy living in the-" Someone was knocking at the door. _

_"I'll get it." Marius stood, heading out of the office into the hall. _

_The knocks were weird. Disjointed, one at a time. Marius turned the handle of the door knob-_

_"Oh my God!"_

_Something that may once have been human was standing on the porch. Skinny, practically emaciated, clothes somehow managing to stick to its frame- but the bruises were the worst part. Everywhere. It had two black eyes..._

_"I-I need Combeferre! W-where is he?"_

_Combeferre poked his head out of the office. _

_"Marius? What's-" He caught sight of the figure in the doorway. "Oh my God!" He ran forward, allowing the creature to stumble inside, sobbing, into his arms. "Oh my God, what's happened to you?!"_

_"I-I-they-" The thing gagged and Combeferre gently guided it towards a chair, Marius staring in disbelief at the newcomer. "_Ow - _I couldn't... couldn't run...!" _

_"Okay, okay, Alex, - Alex! You're going to be okay!" _

_The thing-Alex-was near hysterics now, somewhere between crying and screaming. _

_"Just breathe, it's okay, just breathe... you're safe now, _breathe_..." Alex grabbed Combeferre's shoulders. "Okay, head between your legs, just breathe..."_

_"They-they-I c-couldn't stop them..."_

_"Hushhhh..." _

_Alex sat back up, swallowing hard. _

_"I-I'm sorry I burst in on you like this, but I..."_

_Combeferre helped him back on his feet, steering him into the main hall. His eyes roved over Alex, trying to figure out how much damage had been done. _

Lots of bruises, want to make sure none of his bones are cracked..._ Combeferre thought. His eyes drifted lower, to the dark stain running down the inner leg of Alex's jeans. _

_"Oh my God, Alex, not again...!"_

_In answer, the blond burst into fresh tears. _

_Marius tentatively reached out to put a hand on his shoulder. Combeferre shook his head, a warning gesture. _

_"We need to get you cleaned up - can you make it or..."_

_"I'm f-fine!" Alex said quickly, and shakily made his way down the hall. Combeferre watched him for a moment and turned to Marius. _

_"Can you run to my room and get some clothes? Make sure they're loose!" _

_Marius nodded, heading for the bedroom. _

_At the far end of the house, there was a shuddering sound as the shower started. A moment later, Marius reappeared with what looked like a t-shirt and sweatpants, depositing them on the table. He glanced at Combeferre, who was still staring down the hall. He looked pale._

_"Who..?"_

_Combeferre sighed._

_"His name's Alex. We were in middle school together and..." He turned to Marius. "It wasn't his fault. It was the beginning of our freshman year, and he brought his boyfriend home. He was as liberal as it got, he didn't understand yet. His parents threw him out."_

_Marius's eyes widened._

_"And they could do that?"_

_"No, but that didn't stop them." Combeferre leaned against the wall. "I tried to take him in, but my parents couldn't make the money stretch."_

_"So he's been out on the streets for... years?"_

_Comeberre swallowed hard._

_"Yeah. Sells himself off when he has to. He shows up when he gets beaten up badly enough he can't pull through on his own. It just keeps getting worse. One of these days he's not going to make it in time and I'll find him slumped over on the porch..."_

_Marius bit his lip. _

_"So... are you two together or...?"_

_Combeferre shook his head._

_"No. I'm just a friend. Someone he can trust." _

_The shower shut off in the silence, leaving only some distant sobs. _

_Combeferre started into the hall. _

_"I'd better check on him." _

_"Go ahead."_

_He knocked on the bathroom door._

_"Alex? Are you okay?"_

_"I'm... go on... come in..."_

_Combeferre glanced back over his shoulder. _

_"Marius! Could you get those clothes for me?"_

_He opened the door slowly, closed it without latching it. _

_"How do you feel now?"_

_Alex leaned up against the sink, staring down into the basin. He'd put on one of the robes that hung on the door-it swamped him._

_"Not much better." His voice was hollow. "Everything hurts."_

_The future medical student in Combeferre took over._

_"Do you have problems moving anything?" Alex shook his head. The shower seemed to have calmed him down, if nothing else. _

_"Okay..." Combeferre continued. "Um..." He trailed off and began again. "How many were there this time?"_

_Alex shrugged. _

_"Three? Maybe four - I sort of lost count."_

_"Shit." Combeferre laid a hand on the blond's shoulder. He instantly realized his mistake as Alex pulled away sharply. _

_"Tell you what, Alex. You're going to spend the night here-" Alex opened his mouth to protest. _

_"-And then I'm taking you to the ER tomorrow to get you fully checked out. Granted, the shower probably took care of most of the evidence, but we need to make sure there isn't any major damage!"_

_"No." Alex wrapped the robe tighter around himself. "I don't have the money. I can't pay you back."_

_"Alex, we're friends, you don't _need_ to pay me back-"_

_"-You've never lived on the streets." Alex said. "If you did, you'd know that if you give anyone anything, you sure as hell better get something back. That's why I never stay here. Because I know I have to pay you back."_

_Combeferre rolled his eyes._

_"And what did you get from being gang-raped?"_

_Alex dropped onto the toilet seat. _

_"Nothing." He muttered eventually. "I got nothing."_

_Combeferre knelt in front of the other man. _

_"Listen to me, Alex. I'm only a student. There's only so much I can do. You need to see a professional."_

_Alex sighed._

_"We'll... we'll talk it over in the morning."_

* * *

R sat back in his chair, feeling slightly faint.

"Holy shit..."

Combeferre nodded.

"Yeah. And that's why he never lets anyone touch him, aside from Marius and I. His soul is only so much scar tissue."

_Never lets anyone touch him at all... and I kissed him... no wonder he panicked..._ R fought the urge to vomit.

"Hold on." Courfeyrac said. "How does a New Orleans prostitute get to Miami?"

"That was a bit of a puzzle." Combeferre agreed. "One day, he just randomly visited his parents - heels, eyeshadow, the works - and gave them hell. I could hear them screaming at each other through the door. And, two days later, somehow, he walked away with his share of the inheritance. Still don't know how he did it, but he bought a ticket to Miami and never looked back. As far as I know."

"Of course." Jehan murmured. "Gay rights... making sure what happened to him doesn't happen to someone else..."

"And the clothes, the makeup." Joly added. "It's like saying 'look at me, I'm gay, what can you do about it?'"

R said nothing, still immersed in the enormity of what he'd done.

_Just a kiss... but he must have thought he was being raped all over again._

* * *

They worked long into the night, scribbling out lyrics, pounding out piano chords. R was sure they'd raised his rent at least by twenty dollars. Gradually their conversation deteriorated into pure flirtation.

"I really love this line here," R said. "Where you talk about the highway like it's a 30's film. Black and white. Your stuff, it's really vague... but it's not. I know exactly what you're saying."

"Enough waxing lyrical." Jehan replied, waving his pen at R. "That's my job. I want to see those beautiful fingers moving."

R ignored the poet, abandoning his post at the keyboard, joining the other man on the sofa. His lips ran over Jehan's temple, and he turned, melting into R's arms.

A moment later, they'd hit the wall of the bedroom, fumbling with buttons and buckles. Jehan landed with a _fhoomph_ on the bed, staring up at R, who'd slid after him.

_He's not a fool. He's a dreamer, but he's not a fool. This relationship isn't based on love and he knows it. _R sighed internally. _I only hope I can remember to yell the right name..._

* * *

A different building, a different bed.

Alex sighed, flesh breaking into goosebumps as the other man peppered kisses over his chest, his arms. The blond nestled against Marius' body.

"There are days when I just want to run through the streets, scream, kill the president, I don't know." Alex pulled the sheets over both of them. "Bring down the government, like, seriously piss a lot of people off."

Marius grinned.

"And I'd be following behind to clean up all the legal issues, right?"

"Or scrape me off the pavement." Alex's moodswings were getting more violent as time went on. Combeferre kept talking about a counselor... "I tend to get hurt when people get pissed."

Silence.

"You still think about it, don't you." Marius said.

"-yeah."

Alex rolled over. The conversation was done.

* * *

**Thoughts?**


	5. Chapter 5

One of these days, R was going to have to invest in a bigger bed. Or just never have sex in this one ever again. This mattress was _not_ built for two.

He and Jehan were cramped together, blankets tangled around their legs. One couldn't move without hitting the other. Jehan had tumbled off twice several hours earlier.

Now R opened his eyes as Jehan shifted into a sitting position, pen and paper in hand.

"What're you doing?" He craned his neck to what the other man was writing. R caught a glimpse of the familiar chicken scratches. His hands slid over Jehan's pale thighs and further on, the poet giggled and pushed him away.

"Then let me see!"

"_No!_"

Jehan crumpled the paper in his fist, tossing it over the side of the bed. R pinned him up against the pillows, lips biting at his neck as legs shifted around his waist.

"Oh fuck..."

R grinned. Who would have guessed that ever-placid Jehan had such a filthy mouth?

"With pleasure."

* * *

"We're close. We're really close, I can feel it." Alex paused as Jehan ducked into a chair. "I think another week and we might be ready." He glanced at the others. It was painfully obvious to the others that R was not among them. "You have to be ready to give yourself up for this. Do you believe-do you want this enough to get arrested, maybe even to die for it? Our whole aim is to get arrested. If they put us behind bars just because we want to marry who we love, the public freaks out and the government has a potential mass protest on their hands. It'd end up like the Vietnam protests." The blond cracked a smile. "Although, I for one am not touching gasoline."

There was silence.

"Let me get back to you on that." Courfeyrac muttered finally.

Joly bit his lip.

"I get the cause, I'm willing to get arrested, but... death... I don't know."

"I'm not sure."

"Maybe..."

Alex stood suddenly, wordlessly heading for the door. A match flamed in the darkness outside as he lit a cigarette.

The door creaked open. Alex didn't need to look up to see who it was.

"Hey."

He turned to Marius.

"What have I done now?"

"You haven't done anything." Marius put a hand on his shoulder.

"I just wish they'd get it already."

"Alex, they're not ready yet. They haven't... they haven't experienced what you have."

The blond took a drag on his cigarette.

"Then what can I do so that they _can_ understand? I like them, I really do, but I just wish..." He trailed off, laying his head on Marius's shoulder.

"You're asking a lot from them." The lawyer replied. "It'll take them a while to feel the way you do."

The door opened again.

"Everything okay?" Combeferre stepped over the threshold, concern etched in his face. Alex sighed.

"Stress."

"About them?"

"Yeah."

Combeferre nodded.

"You do know that Marius and I are going to be here with you no matter what, right?"

Alex nodded distractedly.

"Sure."

"I know what you went through, we both do-"

"Do you?" The blond looked up at him suddenly. "Do you, really? How the hell could you?"

"I saw what they did to you-"

"But you don't get it! You don't get how it _felt_!"

Marius wrapped an arm around the blond's shoulders.

"Can we all just calm down-"

"How could you know that?!"

"_Because I spent too much time mopping all the blood and cum off of you every night that you showed up!"_

Alex stepped back, visibly hurt.

"I'm a doctor." Combeferre continued, in a more even tone. "I specialize in male rape victims. They're all the same. Scared, embarrassed, convinced they were wrong... just like you. Trust me, between you and them-I know. And it's you all that I'll be fighting for when the time comes!"

* * *

The others looked up as the door reopened, and Alex entered, reaching for his jacket. He paused, glanced at them.

"What's worth saving for you? What're you willing to die for?"

And then he was gone.

* * *

"Talk to me about something happy." Alex leaned against the cushions of the couch, looking over at Marius. "Like, what was something good that happened?"

"Okay... when we met up again in Miami. When Combeferre brought me to one of your meetings for the first time... and I realized that you'd gotten hot since the last time I'd seen you. Umm..." Marius grinned. "That time we went to the Dairy Queen and just got one huge sundae and split it..."

Alex opened his eyes.

"When did we do that?"

"Several months back." Marius said. "You don't remember?"

"No, but... we ought to do that again sometime..."

"If you want."

"I just want to be happy." The blond murmured. "Is that too much to ask?"

Marius took his hand.

"Never."

* * *

"I'm back!"

Jehan's voice echoed in the flat.

"R?"

"Back here!"

He joined the pianist in the bedroom, where R was fiddling with chords.

"Hey. I think got the bridge figured out." He said. Jehan came behind him, bracing his hands on the back of R's chair.

"Cool. So if you can just get the melody figured out-"

"-we'll be good!"

They laughed.

"You have a pretty laugh." R commented, eyes averted. Jehan sighed softly.

"You know, R, you don't have to keep pretending - I know you don't love me. You told me about the thing with Alex-"

"Can we not go there?"

"Okay." Jehan bit his lip. "All I'm saying is... why bother when we both know...?"

R's lips twitched.

"Because friends having sex is just... awkward."

"Granted."

Another kiss and a discordant clang as Jehan landed against the keyboard. They weren't bothering with the bed this time.

* * *

_One week later_-

R opened his eyes as the mattress creaked yet again. Jehan was pulling his clothes on.

"Leaving now?" R asked, sitting up. "It's still dark."

"I've got things to do." The other man flashed a smile. "I'll see you."

R nodded and a minute later Jehan's footsteps on the stairs faded.

He should go for a walk. Or get some beer. Or some coffee. Just get out the flat.

_You need to stop hiding from him. You did what you did, now you have to live with it._

* * *

**Review?**


	6. Chapter 6

When R stepped out of the coffee shop onto the sidewalk, he wasn't even sure what had happened. He was simply pulled into the crowd that was filling the street-screams, chanting, rushing through what seemed like most of central Miami.

Somehow, he managed to fight his way to the outer edge, making a break for the sidewalk again-

Hold on. That face...

"Jehan!" His yell was lost in the noise of everyone else. "_Jehan!_"

Yeah, it was definitely him. And there was Joly beside him! And Alex, Marius, Combeferre, all of them at the front of the line.

This was his protest. _This_ was the riot.

"Holy shit!"

Alex must have had spread the word throughout Miami, the streets were _teeming_ with people, waving placards, banners, anything they could get their hands on.

Police sirens wailed through the air, patrol cars parked around the outskirts of the street, roadblocks being set hurriedly.

Alex was screaming something incomprehensible. R struggled through the sidewalk to get closer.

"..._and this what you call the land of the free? The land where if you're gay, you're fucked?_" He threw his arms up over his head. "_GOD BLESS AMERICA! LAND OF THE PREJUDICED AND THE HOME OF THE BIGOTS!"_

The rest of his speech was drowned out with the sound of gunfire. The coarse yells suddenly melted into panicked screams as people fought to get out of the street. R flattened himself against the side of the shop as Alex shouted something nobody seemed to hear, making for the sidewalk. The others followed. More gunfire.

Eventually, only a handful remained-mostly the men from Alex's group. The police moved in-

"Wait, don't-"Combeferre started forward as Alex was seized, slammed onto the asphalt. Handcuffs clinked around his wrists. He'd gone a horrible shade of whitish-green.

"You have the right to remain silent, anything you say can and will..."

Marius pushed his way to the front of the line, all but throwing himself at the police. A moment later, he was next to Alex, crumpled on the pavement.

"Alex, Alex, it's okay, it's not-they're not-it's okay!"

The blond's eyes were shut tightly, as if he was trying to be anywhere but here.

"You're okay!"

Several minutes later, they were all pulled up by their clothes and shoved into the backseat. Alex was shaking, one tear orbed perfectly on his blond lashes.

"Oh God... I hate cars..."

"Alex-"

"They'd always hit me... with the seatbelt..."

"Hush, hush..." Marius was pleading with him now. "Alex, Alex baby, it's good, it's all good, you're okay..."

Alex finally broke down, tears streaming down his cheeks unobstructed.

"...Oh, god, _please_ be okay..."

R watched in numb shock as the police car pulled into the distance. When he finally started walking again, it was not for his flat, but for the jail.

* * *

"One call." The policeman handed the receiver to the first one, who happened to be Jehan.

"Hello? Yeah. It's me. I'm-oh, you saw then? Yeah." His voice stuck in his throat. "I love you." He hung up quickly and turned away.

Most of the calls were to family members or friends, quickly relating what happened and asking for bail.

Marius.

"Hey Dad, I just got arrested 'cause I want to get married. Yeah, really. So, yeah, if you could bail me and Alex out... okay."

Alex.

"Hello?" His voice tremored. "Hi Mom. I still hate you just as much as I did before."

The reciever slammed into place.

* * *

Jehan looked up hollowly at the sound of footsteps on the floor.

"R?"

The pianist fit his fingers between the bars, the other man brushing the tips shyly. R moved on.

There he was. Pacing lion-like in his cell, if lions ever shook like leaves. He looked up as R approached.

"Go away. I don't want to talk to you."

Joly, in the cell across from Alex looked up, startled, then went back to studying his fingertips.

R went up to the bars.

"Alex, I didn't-I wasn't trying to hurt you."

The blond ignored him. R continued.

"If I had the money, I'd bail you out, you know I would."

"And not Jehan?"

R looked away, didn't reply. Alex stared.

"He's mad for you. You do know that, right? And you slept with him, didn't you? And you'd throw that back in his face?" He turned away. "You disgust me."

"I still love you. Alex, I need you!"

"And I have too many reasons not to get with you."

"Yeah, I know. Combeferre told us."

Alex scowled.

"And whatever happened to patient confidentiality?"

"And of course, Marius-"

The blond cut him off.

"Marius understands what I need."

R pressed himself against the bars.

"And what do you need?"

Alex sighed.

"Someone who can make me ignore the voice in my head that keeps calling me a slut." He sank to the floor. "It's funny, you know, they always tell you it wasn't your fault, but you never believe them."

R dropped to his knees.

"Did you ever go to a counselor, or a doctor...? Not even to get checked for AIDS?"

"Nobody touches me. And If I have AIDS, I don't want to know about it. Marius and Combeferre, they're the only ones in the world that can touch me." Alex glanced coldly at R. "Although _some_ people find a way."

R looked down, tasting blood. He must have bitten through his lip.

"Alex, I'm sorry..."

"Don't even." He took a shaking breath. "I'm tired, you're pissing me off, and-" Another breath. "You need to go."


	7. Chapter 7

The policeman measured his steps along the cells. Most of the occupants were asleep with the exception of a few- one who stared obliquely at the opposite wall, the blond one who'd led the riot, and, several cells down, the one with freckles, who looked miserable.

The policeman stopped at the blond's cell.

"Can't sleep?"

He found himself subject to a cold, blue stare- analytical and unforgiving. The blond turned back, not bothering to reply.

"Listen, I'm sorry about all this."

Finally, the leader spoke.

"Why? Why should_ you _be sorry?"

The policeman felt a stab of indignation.

"Because if it hadn't been for my job, I would have been out there with you lot!"

The blond wet his lips.

"And how do I know this isn't some ploy set up by you people? Some kind of dare?"

"What would be the point of that?"

The blond finally turned, coming uncomfortably close to the policeman.

"Because I spent over two hours in your interrogation room." He looked down. "And because I don't trust anyone."

"Not even your government? You're so terrified of conspiracies?"

"I'm not terrified. I just don't trust them to protect my rights. To protect _me._" His tone had a harsh, angry edge.

"Okay! I get it."

The blond smirked.

"No, you don't."

The policeman considered this.

"You're right."

A pause.

"Why are you here?" The reply was immediate.

"Because I feel guilty about locking you up for a cause we both believe in."

Another, longer silence.

"Do you want to see my daughter?"

The prisoner gave him a slightly bemused look.

"Why...?"

"Because I don't get to see her very often since I work nights, and since you're here..."

"O...kay..."

The policeman took out his wallet, revealing a photograph of a pretty blonde beaming at the camera.

"She... looks nice."

"Adopted." The man said. "But I could never bring myself to tell Cosette that." He grinned ruefully. "I'm too selfish to give up being daddy. It's Valjean, by the way."

"Alex."

Another photo, this one of the blonde with a brunette girl, sitting by a fountain, laughing together.

"That's Eponine, her girlfriend. They met in high school and things kind of clicked. They took each other to the prom, you know."

Alex smiled, a touch wistfully.

"Good for them."

Silence.

"Are you going to sleep tonight?"

"No."

"Okay." Valjean paused for a moment. "I'll put in a good word for you. At the hearing. Because you're right. Some things need to change."

He moved on, casting a long look at the man in the cell, face shadowed by the bars, gaze burning into the floor.

* * *

Back in the cells.

Alex could taste blood in his mouth from where he'd bitten his tongue to keep from laughing. Did they seriously think that appealing to his better nature would make him talk? That was funny. There was no better nature to appeal to.

Marius' dad was coming down from North Carolina to bail them out. Couple more days and they could let him go.

Then they could all raise hell at the hearing...

Not all of them could pay the bail. Joly probably could, Combeferre too, and maybe Bossuet, but Jehan, Courfeyrac, and Feuilly... perhaps not...

"Hey, Alex?" Marius' voice sounded from several cells down.

"Yeah?"

"You okay?"

"Fine."

Another voice, this time from Bossuet.

"Well. This sucks."

"Not really." Alex sat by the bars. "We just have to wait for the hearing and then... we make our point."

"And if we don't make it?" Jehan asked. "What if nothing changes?"

"Then... it was nice while it lasted. We serve our time... and go our seperate ways."

Silence.

"Life goes back to normal." Alex continued. "Jehan can go back to his poetry, Bossuet and Joly to Musichetta, Courfeyrac to... whoever he's screwing now... Combeferre has his patients..."

Combeferre looked up.

"Where will you go? You planned this for years... what would you do with yourself?"

Alex shrugged.

"Something. Anything, I guess."

"You're moving in with me." Marius said firmly.

Someone sighed in the silence... a ghost smile appeared on Alex's face.

"Or... you could help me plan the next riot..."

The others started to grin in their respective cells.

"I'm in." Said Joly. The other gradually offered their assent.

"It's funny." Courfeyrac murmured from the cell by Jehan. "You don't realize how much of a drudge your life is until you find something that gives you meaning again. And then you can never go back."

Later that night- someone was whispering his name.

"Alex!"

Alex looked up as Marius pressed himself up against the bars of the cell, straining for a glimpse of his boyfriend. As it was, he could just see the outline of a pale shoulder.

"Marius?" Alex did the same. "What is it?"

"I've been thinking... when we get out of here-for good, I mean-I want you to live with me. And we'll go to a church-any church, I don't care where-and we're going to get married."

"Marius-"

"Not by a minister. We'll sit in the pews and we'll say the vows. We'll get rings if you want. They can't stop us from that."

Marius pressed his head against the bars, mouthing a kiss at Alex who mimed catching it, pressing his fingers to his lips.

"Goodnight, Marius."

"Diamond." Marius said. "I'll get you a diamond ring."

Alex grinned as he lay back on his cot.

"I love you!" He called.

"But I love you more."

"That's impossible."


	8. Chapter 8

R stood by the cell, watching him as he dozed. It was kind of a fetish of his, watching his lovers sleep, watch them dream...

Mark had a habit of sighing in his sleep, something that R had found completely endearing. More than once Mark had been woken as R pulled him even closer, crushing kisses into his hair.

Jehan dreamed a lot. Thrashed around a lot too. R was pretty sure he'd gotten bruised up on that first night, and not just when Jehan had done that weird thing with his tongue that had sent R's head slamming against the wall...

Watching Alex... he didn't seem to do anything. No odd tics, no tossing and turning. Just lay there. Dead. It was as if he only lived when awake and died when he slept. A corpse.

"R?"

He turned, finding himself looking at Jehan.

"Hey."

"R..."

The pianist went to the cell, sitting on the floor.

"What is it?"

"Let's break it off."

"Jehan?"

The poet ran a hand through his blond hair.

"You want Alex." He explained. "And I'm not waiting for you to get him and lose interest in me. I'm just something to do until that happens - no, it's okay. I know it's true. I'm handy."

"Jehan, that's not how I think of you-"

"-Yeah, it is." Jehan fingered the tiling of the floor. "Maybe you try to tell yourself different, but you do. And I don't want to be... no."

R forced his hand between the bars, trying to touch the other man's hand, but Jehan pulled away slightly.

"Don't. Really don't. Being in here... I've had time to think."

"So you want to end it." R said flatly.

"Only because you do." The poet replied and looked away.

There was a pause, and then R stood.

"Okay."

He started to walk and then stopped, turned back to Jehan.

"You remind me of Mark."

Jehan frowned.

"Mark?"

"Former boyfriend. He was synergetic- he could taste color and he could see music." He laughed, sniffing. "He always said my songs were blue."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. He walked out about..." R sighed. "About a month ago. It still hurts."

Jehan didn't look up. A tear wetted his lips in the gloom.

"And... I still care. I still love him a little. I... I just wanted you to know that."

* * *

"Right." Another policeman, not Valjean, opened the door to Alex's cell. "Someone's here to bail you out."

Alex and Marius stumbled into the hall, meeting another freckled, relatively tall man. He put a hand briefly on his son's shoulder and then shook hands with Alex, smiling the smile of a man who isn't quite sure how occasions like this are supposed to go.

"Hello… Alex, isn't it?"

The blond nodded tightly.

"Marius's mentioned you."

Alex wet his lips.

"Then… am I right in thinking this would be a bad time to say-" He glanced at Marius. "I'm not leaving. The rest of our men don't have the money to bail out and I won't abandon them." To Marius. "You can still leave, if you want."

"No." The lawyer said firmly. "I'm staying with you."

"So, you're not bailing out after all." The policeman's voice sounded tiredly from the doorway.

"Right." Alex turned back, allowing himself to be led back into the hallway. Marius turned to follow-

"Marius!"

He glanced back at his father.

"Yeah?"

"You were right." He said. "He is worth it."

* * *

"You deny, then, that you led a riot through the streets of Miami?"

"No." Alex replied. "I led the riot and I'm proud of it."

The prosecutor sighed.

"By the law set down in the first amendment, you have a right to a peaceful protest. That mob that swarmed Central Miami was anything-"

"Yeah, it's really funny you should bring that up." Alex said, interrupting the other's flow smoothly. "Because… our wonderful founding fathers forgot about a few things when they when they wrote all that. And the government just left it up to the states to figure out to hide the fact that they screwed up. And of course, the states screwed up even further…" He sighed. "I see no reason why I shouldn't be able to marry my boyfriend if I want." He paused, waiting for the murmur to die down.

"I'll serve time for the riot. I won't try to get out of that. But let it never be said that it wasn't justified."

* * *

"The publicity's huge. I hear CNN wants an interview."

"I lost." Alex leaned against the bars of his cell. "I fucking lost."

"Alex-"

He turned, glaring at R. "Why the hell can't people just wise up?" He demanded. "It's not-" He stopped abruptly. R went to the bars.

"Is it your fault that everybody in Florida's conservative?"

"I wish you'd just go away." Alex said finally. "I lose the most important court case of my life and then _you_ show up."

"Thanks." R muttered. "Really good for the self-esteem."

Silence and then Alex slumped to the floor.

"And now I have a year in prison to think about how I failed." He spat, leaning his head back. His eyes were red.

A pause.

"Why did you save me?"

"What?" Alex asked irritably.

"That night at the club. You brought me to the building next door and cleaned up my wrists. You _helped _me. Why?"

Alex sighed.

"Because I know what it's like to be alone and in pain when there's no one else in the world that cares about your ass."

"And, you know, it's not fair," he continued, voice thickening with tears. "When the rough ones show up and you have to take it, whatever they do. If they hit you, you take it. If they pin you to the wall and fuck you raw, you take it. Whatever they do. Because you know, that if you don't, you don't get paid. And that's what it's all about. Think about that, next time you hire a prostitute."

He fell silent, still shaking with sobs. Then he spoke again.

"And I find it - really ironic that the government's supposed to make this country a better place to live in."

Awkwardly, R placed a hand on the blond's shoulder, feeling the lump in his throat grow as he pulled away.

"Alex… I'm not going to hurt you…"

The blond gradually relaxed, and R suddenly found himself combing his fingers through blond curls, uncomfortably fitting his hand through the bars. And then Alex had reached through as well, grabbing his hand.

R froze, unsure of whether to stop or continue.

Their fingers threaded together, Alex tightening his hold as his sobs grew more intense. R felt the brush of lips on one of his fingers... and then he'd let go.

"Get out. Out!" He stood, wiping at his cheeks with his hand. "Get out!" His voice became softer. "You've gotten to touch me, now leave. _Leave!_"

R stood, staring at him in shock.

"You… you…"

" I told you, I have Marius and nobody else! Do you think I could let go of him? I've let you in... let you in too far. Get out!"

"But-"

"Don't you understand? I can't trust anyone! Not anymore!"

"You're… you're a real asshole, you know that?"

Alex didn't reply, merely making for his cot, still weeping. R watched him for a long moment.

And then he was gone.


	9. Epilogue

**A/N: Guys... I'm really sorry...**

* * *

Wind blew down the street and R pulled his jacket tighter. Go home, play around with some piano for a little while, and then sleep off the beer. In his alcohol-induced blindness, he barely noticed the figure up ahead until it was too late.

"Sorry!"

R's head whipped around at the sound of the voice.

"Wait up! Do I… know you?"

The stranger stepped closer and realization dawned.

"Oh my God, Jehan!"

The man grinned.

"It's you!"

Without thinking, R pulled him into a kiss.

"I thought you were still in jail, when did you get out?"

"'Bout a month ago."

They fell into step, beer making R overexcited.

"Where have you been, what's everyone been doing?"

"We went our separate ways." Jehan said flatly. "Bossuet and Feuilly are still here, Joly too, I think. And Combeferre's back at the ER. I still see Courfeyrac occasionally, he's still street-dancing."

"And… Alex?"

"Alex and Marius are gone. Lit out almost as soon as their sentence was over. I think I heard something about plane tickets to New York? You know," Jehan stared at the street for a moment. "we kept talking about doing another riot, but when Alex lost the case... he gave up."

R bit his lip, looked away.

"So… what are you doing these days?"

"Oh… " Jehan shrugged. "The usual. Poetry… cold flat…"

"You could always move in with me." R said.

"No, I…" Jehan sighed. "Look, R? We finished that relationship, and… I don't revive those. It's been a year, and I'm a little older and a little wiser. Besides, Courfeyrac stays at my place sometimes and last time we... yeah." He nodded. "It was nice talking to you again." He started down the road, then turned. "R? I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"For you."

He set off again, R watching him go. A year later and yet another blow to the face. And he'd spent so many nights jerking off in the shower, moaning both their names until the hot water ran out- who did he want? R didn't know anymore.

He turned and went back for the club, ramming into yet another person as he headed over the threshold. He ignored her, whoever she was.

Pushing through crowds of drunk dancers... making for the bathroom... oh, wasn't this familiar?

"Sorry..." He'd slammed into somebody else just coming out of the men's room. His reply was lost in the din.

He was already stoned, the best thing to do at this point would be to wait for someone to walk in, and and then cut his way into oblivion. Someone hot. Blond- no, dark hair. Yeah.

Who knows? Maybe this time he'll get lucky.

* * *

_"The toad always has his eyes fixed on heaven. Why? So that he might see the bird in flight."_

_ -Victor Hugo, Les Miserables_


End file.
